


Give me a hearty smile

by 10k_au



Category: Z Nation (TV)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, F/M, Fluff, Muteness, Shock
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-07
Updated: 2016-11-07
Packaged: 2018-08-29 16:18:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8496910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/10k_au/pseuds/10k_au
Summary: Reader is tough and emotionless. 10k wants to bring out her happy and smiley side, their relationship slowly progresses.





	1. Chapter 1

You pull up your pistol in both hands, firing off a few round into the zombies approaching you. Two out of five go down, and you groan, fumbling to reload before they can get too close. You’d underestimated how many there would have been, you should have never insisted that you’d go alone. Not that anyone else had to know that. Shots are fired from behind you, bullseyes in the centre of the remaining Zs heads. You look over your shoulder to see 10k up above you on the rafters of the building. He looks up from his rifle and gives you an ‘I told you so look’. With a huff you slide your pistol back into its holster and move off again into the warehouse. You can hear 10k jumping down, container to container. But you ignore him until he reaches your side.

“That was close, wasn’t it?” he teases, matching his pace to yours.

“I wouldn’t say that” you mutter, lifting your chin and trying to seem indifferent. You hear him chuckle next to you and then he nudges your shoulder.

“Did you see my kills?”

“I didn’t need your help” you say plainly. You watch out of the side of your eye, gaging his reaction. He looks hurt for only a second and then he smiles again, a little bounce falling into his gait. He keeps talking, and you go about trying to ignore him, playing a word association game in your head. Every now and again, he pushes you gently, obviously telling a joke or making a quip. Neither thing you cared for.

You busy yourself looking through some containers on the floor, sifting through blocks and bags, looking for something tradeable. You’re aware of 10k stood behind you, still holding his gun. He cuts through the air gently as he turns around once and then squats next to you.

“What’s in your box of tricks?” he asks brightly, one hand moving to rest on the edge of the storage crate. You shake your head and slap his hand away.

“My being the operative word” you tell him. “Can’t you find your own shit?”

“You really going to deny a sad kid your company?” he asks, a comic pout on his face. You stare at him, a bored look falling upon your features. He holds your gaze for a while, stubborn and demanding of a smile from you. Then he sighs.

“I guess so” he mutters, standing back up and tapping his finger softly on his trigger.

You finish looking and get to your feet, wandering away, worried that you’re not going to find anything at all. You feel your companion’s eyes on you as your pace increases, craning your neck to look down row after row of empty aisles.

“Come on, Y/N” He calls after you. “There’s obviously nothing here!”

You flip him off, and continue on your own way, tucking your hands into your pockets. Eventually, you assume that he’s given up and returned to the others, because you can’t hear him attempting to catch up with you.

You’re reaching for a door handle to a storage room when another and beats you to it. 10k’s gloved hand stops you from opening the door, and he moves in front of you. You look up into his face, angry that he’d creep up on you when he already knew that you were pissed off.

“What are you doing?” you demand, glaring at him.

“Why do you hate me?” He asks, face like stone. It shocks you to see that his face is now matching the emptiness of yours. He’s normally so bright.

“I don’t hate you” you state, throwing your hands up in exasperation, his jaw tenses then relaxes again, and he lets his hand drop from the door handle before crossing his arms across his chest.

“Then why do you always look at me like that.” He asks, “Like I’ve done something terrible to you, whenever I speak.” He astounds you with the amount of sadness that laces itself into his voice. It’s as if you’ve broken his heart.

“I don’t…” You begin, before changing your mind, and softening your features. “I try not to get too close to people. Loss hurts too much.”

“Smiling at someone doesn’t mean you have to get married” he tells you.

“Smiling means I’m too comfortable.”

“Give me a smile.” He says, uncrossing his arms and ducking to get on your eye level. You smirk, rolling your eyes at his stupidity. “Come on” he adds, slapping his knees. “a PROPER smile, a HEARTY smile.”

“Shut up.” You reply, turning away from him.

“Oh, no you don’t” His hands suddenly grab you by the hips, he pulls you back and tickles your waist, making you gasp and jump, trying to get free. He laughs and moves his tickling up to your ribs. You drop to the ground to escape him, but he sinks with you, his hands hitting you in spots that make your eyes water.

“Stop!” you grimace, trying to shove him off of you.

“Nope, SMILE.” He whispers, tickling you harder and watching your face as it splits into an involuntary smile. You stuggle for breath, laughing for the first time in years. His fingers stop moving and he stares at you again, blue eyes boring into you.

“You’re beautiful when you smile” he mumbles, “You’re so cute.”

“I am not cute” you argue, eyes transfixed by his. He nods and the corner of his mouth twitches. Then he starts up the torture again, making you arch your back, hands pushing at his chest.

“Stop!” you giggle.

“Not until you admit you’re cute.”  
“NO!”

“Come on, y/n, just admit it and I’ll stop!”

“10k!” You realise that you can’t take much more without peeing yourself, and in desperation you hiss through your laughter. “OKAY okay!”

He stops, watching you with a look that’s verging on flirtacious. He flicks his chin as if to say go on then, and his hands go back to your hips, a constant threat.

“I guess I’m cute.” You sigh, trying to pull yourself together, readjusting your clothing.

“Yeah, you are very cute.” He repeats, pushing himself up onto his knees and then getting to his feet, helping you do the same. You shake your head at him, brushing yourself down, and you’re about to turn and walk away, when he pulls you back again. You curl up your fist, ready to beat him if he thinks about tickling you again. But he doesn’t.

He kisses you.

Your tense fist comes to an anticlimactic rest on his chest, your eyes closing. When he pulls away, his eyes search your face, perhaps wondering how you’re about to react. Whether you’re going to kill him. You just stare back, unable to form words in such a state of surprise.

“I won’t do that again” he mutters. “Just know, I don’t care what danger being close to you brings, I want to be your friend, and I’ll do anything to keep you in my life.”

“Friends.” You parrot, not sure what you’re feeling. Whether its relief or disappointment. “Sounds perfect. You stay frozen to the spot as he spins on his heel and saunters off around the corner.

Friends.

Just friends.


	2. Chapter 2

10k drops his gun, grinning at you from the other side of the door. You tilt your head to one side, trying to do the maths in your mind.

“4,034?” you guess, scrunching up your nose.

“4,052” He gasps, as if he’s personally offended. “How the hell did you lose so much faith in me?” the mock shock melts into another smile and he pulls you over the threshold into the room.

“You’re a shit shot” you tell him, giving him a sincere gaze. He nudges your shoulder with his and chuckles a little.

“Ouch” he laughs. You walk past him and to the Z laying on the floor. You kick it once and then grab its arms, beginning to drag it towards the window. Once there you open it up and bit by bit tip him out.

“Wait, you were joking right?” 10k asks suddenly. You turn to look him, and give him a smirk, closing the window and dusting your hands against each other.

“Yes, I was joking” you say, wiping blood off on your trousers. He sighs and rolls his eyes, sliding his rifle off of his shoulder and leaning it against the wall. Warren ducks into the room and throws a blanket to him, telling him that you should bunk down for the night and that you’re leaving early in the morning. He catches it and checks inside, regarding the layers where it’s been folded.

“It’s hard to tell if you’re joking, with the whole no smiling thing” he explains, before turning to catch Warren as she moves down the hall. He hangs on the door frame and you admire the muscles in his arm moving, eventually having to turn away, starting to blush.

“There’s only one blanket” 10k says, and your ears prick up.

“I know, I’m sorry” you hear Warren respond. “But I couldn’t make Addy and Murphy share, could I now.”

“No, I understand It’s cool” he says, and he shuts the door gently. You turn back to him, raising your eyebrows. He shakes the blanket and then throws it onto the sofa, you find yourself checking him out again and you busy yourself, deciding to check the cupboards for any supplies. You open the drawers first, finding nothing but a few piles of dust and a dead spider. Shivering at the sight of the curled up creature, you shut them quickly and move on to the big double doors of the cabinet. As you pull them open, something moves. A zombie reaches out towards you, teeth nashing as it sees its next meal.

“shit” you stumble backwards, tripping on the rug and falling to the ground. The Z climbs out of the cupboard and lunges at you. A shot rings through the air, and as the body falls on top of you, you have no idea whether it’s dead or not. You freeze, your life flashing before your eyes.

You’re only half there as the Z is pulled away and off of you, and 10k throws it to the side. Then he appears above you again. He smiles a little, and puts a hand on your shoulder.

“You’re okay” he tells you. “It didn’t get you.” You try to reply, but the words get stuck on their way from your head to your mouth, and you can’t speak. You stare back into 10k’s face in shock, eyes filling with tears. He helps you sit up, an arm around your back, worried that you might fall down again. You stare at him, trying to make your words work.

“Hey, are you alright?” he asks as someone appears at the door. He turns away from you and says something, probably telling them that the shot they heard was nothing to worry about. Then he turns back to you, and looks into your eyes.

“Y/n” he says gently. “Please say something, you’re worrying me” Then he changes his tactic slightly.

“How about you smile for me?” he asks, grinning. You want to tell him to fuck off, like you normally would. But you can’t. You realise suddenly that you’ve been shocked into silence. You’re momentarily mute. You decide the best course of action is just to show him that you’re present and understand him. You smile a little, lips curling up at the edges, and 10k sighs in relief. He pulls you to your feet and across to the sofa where he wraps you up in the blanket, sitting you down gently.

“See,” he chuckles, “smiling isn’t that difficult!” you watch him with a half glower as he moves away to dispose of the other body. While he’s doing so, he keeps talking to you.

“You’d be cutting chunks out of me right now if you were speaking” he says, closing the window for the second time. “So I’m guessing you don’t want to right now” He comes back over and sits next to you, quite close, but still allowing you some space. You hold out one side of the blanket, offering him half of it. He shakes his head.

“It’s alright, you’ve just had a shock, keep it” He leans his head on the arm on his side, and you pull the blanket tighter around your shoulders, settling in. You close your eyes, and try to sleep. But hour after hour all that you can see under your lids is every danger that you’ve ever been faced with. You fidget, trying to clear your mind, trying to do anything that will get rid of the image of that zombie leering over you. You’ve never been affected by something so small before.

—————————————————————————————————

You turn over and press your face into the blanket, flinching as the pressure makes the image even clearer. You can’t get rid of it, you just want to get rid of it. Your eyes snap open, breathing haggard. You cast a look over to 10k, his eyes are shut, head resting in the crook of his arm. Sniffing, you shuffle over and carefully press yourself into his side, passing the blanket over both of you. To your surprise, he stirs and looks down at you, arms moving under the throw.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, his voice deep and rough from sleep. You stare at him, worried that he’s going to tell you to push off, that he doesn’t like the proximity between you. With a shake of your head, you tuck your chin into your chest.

“Still can’t talk huh?” he mutters, turning over so that he’s facing you. “Have you even slept at all?”

You blink and shake your head again, eyes wide. He puts his face opposite yours and smiles sleepily, it makes your heart flutter and you frown, annoyed that your body is betraying you in such a way. But you can’t look away this time. You don’t want to close your eyes, you don’t want to see it again.

“That Z really affected you, didn’t it?” he asks, and out of nowhere, he lifts a hand and strokes a few strands of hair out of your face. His touch is soft and gentle and your eyes close involuntarily. For the first time in hours, you see nothing, just darkness. It’s such a relief that it plunges your body into euphoria. But then he stops and you open your eyes hurriedly. You scrabble for his hand and put it back to your hairline. His hand freezes, and then he chuckles softly and strokes your hair again.

“Does that help?” he asks, as you shut your eyes again. You nod and lean forward into his touch, earning another chuckle. You almost find yourself purring like a kitten, finally at rest, and slowly but surely you drift off to sleep.

————————————————————————————————–

In the morning, you wake up first. 10k is draped over you, long legs knocking your knees, his arm over your shoulder. You guess that he must have fallen asleep still stroking your hair, and it chokes you up a little, emotional that he would put so much effort into keeping you calm. You watch his face, his jaw tenses and relaxes as he sleeps. His eyes move softly under his eyelids, dreams holding him somewhere beautiful and serene. You get the urge to touch his face, trace the veins under his dancing eyelashes. Instead, you shake his shoulder. He wriggles a little, but he doesn’t wake. With a sigh, you shake him harder. He groans and his eyes flicker as he pulls you closer into his chest.

Your cheeks blush a deep red, and push at his chest. His eyes open halfway and he looks at you for a couple of seconds before they shut again.

“Not yet” he whispers. “I don’t want to get up yet.”

You roll your eyes and huff, not sure whether you’re annoyed with him refusing to move, or whether it’s just the fact that you’re surprised about the feelings you’re getting when you look at him. Then you get an idea, you slowly inch your hands up his sides to his ribs, and then you tickle him. His body jumps and his arms knock at yours as they fly out at awkward angles.

“Stop” he mutters. You smirk and tickle him harder, watching him roll over and try and shake you off. His eyes open all the way and he gasps for breath as you refuse to let up.

“nooo, no, no no!” he exclaims, grabbing your hands and holding you above him. You give him a ‘what you going to do about it’ look and try to get yourself free so that you can continue to tickle him.

“No you don’t.” he tells you, his features breaking into another one of those sleepy smiles. “Two wrongs don’t make a right.” You manage a little smile back and his expression widens.

“You feeling better?” he asks. “You’re smiling an awful lot and it’s confusing me.”

You try your words again, you open your mouth, but still nothing happens. You curse inwardly and relax in 10k’s grasp, confused and frightened. What if it’s permanent? What if you you’re never able to speak again? He lets go of you and gives you a strange look, full of pity and sympathy.

“It’s okay” he says softly. “I’m sure it’ll come back, and you’ve got all of your friends around to help you until it does.”

He slides out from next to you and pads over to his gun, picking it up and hooking it over his shoulder.

“I’m going to go and see what the others are up to.” He says, straightening his goggles, “I’ll be back soon, you look like you could use a little more rest.” And then he leaves the room.


End file.
